What if I’m not a good enough actress to pull this off?
Faking being real newlyweds?
The less I say, the safer.
One thing helps—I don’t have to pretend to be physically attracted to him.It’s easy to cozy up to somebody who wears a tuxedo the way he does.I know I’m not imagining things as heads turn when we make our way through the room, heading for the bar.I wonder if he was born with this commanding presence or if he had to develop it because he was born before Luca.
All I know is, I can’t believe how charming he can be when he’s usually so bland.It’s easy to endure endless conversations when he’s the one doing almost all the talking.
Another couple of board members approach before we can reach the bar.
“David, Victor.”Dante nods toward me, smiling.I can almost believe he means it when his dark eyes glow.“My wife of exactly one week, Sophia Santoro.”
“Lucky man.”One of them decides with a wink at me.He’s got to be around Dad’s age, which only makes my skin crawl.
“Watch out, Victor,” Dante warns with a light chuckle.“I was always taught to respect my elders, but a man has his limits.”
Note to self—stay away from Victor.
Nearby, a banner printed with the foundation’s name hangs overhead.People are taking turns having their pictures taken under the banner.
“You’ll want to get pictures of these two,” David announces to the photographer.“Newlyweds, and they took the time to be here tonight.Mr.and Mrs.Santoro.”
There I go, feeling like a zoo animal all over again.
“In a minute.”Victor gives me one last look before prying his gaze away.“Dante, we were hoping to talk over an initiative with you.Do you have time?”Glancing at me again, he adds, “I’m sure you’re beautiful bride will be safe without you for a few minutes.”
Lay it on a little thicker, prick.
I silently wave Dante on but secretly wish the timing was better as the men walk away together, talking about things too important for a woman to hear.Meanwhile, I’m standing here like a pitiful fool and haven’t even found my table yet.
A deep voice catches my attention over my right shoulder.“How did they know I was hoping for an excuse to get you alone for a minute?”A nice voice.Warm, friendly, playful.Also, a voice I haven’t heard in four years.Disbelief makes it tough to move, but I manage to turn slowly.Am I dreaming?
“Enzo?”I can’t believe my eyes.I have to be imagining this.The man in front of me looks like the boy I loved, but sharper.Harder.Like marble that’s been chiseled until nothing but the most essential parts remain.Even his eyes, the same shade of twilight blue, are harder than they used to be.Actually, they are sort of mean.
But they soften when I speak his name, and the change that comes over him is like a miracle.It’s as if he were wearing a mask that had slipped off to reveal the boy I used to know.He sweeps dark blond hair away from his forehead in a gesture that’s painfully familiar before nodding.“Sophia.You look exquisite.”
“I can’t believe it’s you.”I still can’t wrap my head around this, and I have to laugh at myself for being so awkward.“Where have you been?Where did you go?”
“That’s a story much too long to get into here and now, but I would like to,” he adds with something close to the boyish grin I fell in love with years ago.
I can’t help looking him up and down with admiration, then whistling softly and giving him a thumbs-up that makes him chuckle.“Whatever you’ve been doing, it’s working.Look at you!”
He finally lets go of my hand, holding his arms out to the sides and smirking.“I clean up well.”
“Very well.”Well enough to make my heart flutter, but that has a lot to do with the joy of seeing him again when it was the last thing I ever expected.The rush of desire that used to follow on the heels of my joy isn’t there.It’s more like warmth now.I want to hug him, but that’s all.
“Mrs.Santoro?”I hear the name being called out nearby, but it doesn’t register.Once, twice, until I realize I’m the person the photographer is talking to.
And just like that, reality kicks in.
I’mnotthe girl I used to be.
I’m another man’s wife.
A man who will probably wonder who I’m talking to if he’s even noticed, not that I care all that much when I look up at Enzo.A moment like this doesn’t happen every day.But I promised myself I’d be a good girl tonight for the sake of playing along, which means putting on my most grown-up, pleasant smile before nodding to the photographer.“I’ll be right with you.”
“Mrs.Santoro.”Enzo’s voice deepens and takes on an edge that makes me shiver.“I forgot to congratulate you on the happy occasion.”
